


The Blushing Tankard Tavern

by walkalittleline



Series: Molly has a Charisma of 11 [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 16:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15004493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkalittleline/pseuds/walkalittleline
Summary: Caleb is anxious, Molly is awkward, Fjord is fed up with the both of them.





	The Blushing Tankard Tavern

In the short time it takes Risa to lead them to the Blushing Tankard Tavern—the strange bursts of color still crackling in the sky overhead—the streets go from nearly empty to swarming with gnomes. Most are dressed in thick overalls and smudged with dirt yet smiling jovially as they emerge from the factories and greet each other with smiles and waves. Caleb can't stop himself from recoiling as they're surrounded and jostled towards the tavern entrance, the atmosphere suddenly loud and suffocating, the sound of lively fiddle music already filtering out into the streets.

"See!" Beau hisses as they push there way into the already crowded entry. "I told you! These gnomes _party_."

"Aye, we know how to have a good time," Risa says with a broad wink.

"Wrapped around his weenie," Kiri whispers loudly, a passing gnome giving her a confused look as Molly lets out a shout of laughter and Jester shushes her through a grin.

"Time for that later, perhaps," Molly says, peering around the interior of the tavern from where they're still crowded around the entry and rubbing his hands together excitedly. "I'll get us some drinks, then? Give me a hand, Beau?"

Beau grunts in agreement, looking as pleased as Molly at the evening's prospects, and the two of them weave their way through the veritable sea of gnomes towards the bar. Risa is hailed by a group of gnomes further into the entry and she gives them a hurried promise of returning shortly before rushing off with a wide grin and a gleeful shout in response.

"Shall we find a table?" Yasha says as she leans in to glance around the main room of the building. They're blocking the entrance at this point but none of the waiting gnomes look keen on picking a fight with the pale-skinned aasamir standing nearly twice the height of most of them and wearing a giant greatsword across her back.

"Yeah, I think we're kind of in the way here," Fjord mutters, raising a hand in apology to the crowd behind them before gesturing them all forward into the tavern proper.

They get a chance to take in the interior as they step further inside. It's warm and welcoming, with dark wood decor and colorful tapestries draped from the ceiling. The majority of the tables are pushed off to the sides of the single large room, the other ends occupied by the bar with a small stage situated opposite it. There's a band of four gnomes on the stage, though currently only the fiddle player—a young female gnome with bright red hair—is playing, the others tapping their feet in time to the bright jig. The middle of the room is cleared as a dance floor and looks to be where most of the gnomish patrons have congregated, leaving plenty of empty tables for them to choose from.

Caleb feels a tug on his sleeve as Fjord leads them to one of the tables in the corner near the bar and he looks down to see a freckled face gnomish girl wearing Nott's dark cloak.

"Are you okay, Caleb?" Nott's voice says from the unfamiliar round face.

Caleb hums noncommittally in response, offering a small forced smile when Nott's expression grows concerned.

"I'm fine," he mumbles with a reassuring pat on her shoulder. "Just a little overwhelming is all."

Nott nods in agreement, her wide—now brown—eyes glancing around worriedly.

"I've never seen so many gnomes," she whispers. "They're very _loud_ , aren't they?"

Before Caleb can respond, Molly and Beau are returning clutching tankards of ale for all of them—save Kiri who immediately buries her beak in her water and begins happily blowing bubbles in it—which they pass around the table.

"Lively place, isn't it?" Molly says excitedly. He takes a long, steady gulp from his tankard, throat bobbing, before setting it down heavily and clapping his hands together. "Alright then, who's dancing? I'm not making a fool of myself alone."

"Oh, me, me!" Jester says, bouncing on her toes and raising her hand in the air. She stops to kneel down by Kiri, who cocks her head curiously at her, beak clicking and dripping onto the table. "Kiri, do you want to dance with us?"

"Dance with us?" Kiri echoes, head bobbing in agreement as she chirps.

Jester claps, beaming, and pulls Kiri up with before dashing out to the crowded dance floor, grabbing Beau's hand in her free one and yanking her along as she goes despite her protests.

"Anyone else?" Molly says, looking around at the rest of them.

"Sorry, Molly, I've got two left feet," Fjord replies and shakes his head apologetically.

"I'll probably accidentally step on someone," Yasha says, eyes following a pair of young gnomes across the room.

"Fair point," Molly sighs. "Nott? Caleb?"

Caleb shakes his head silently, staring into his ale and not meeting Molly's eyes.

"I'll stay with Caleb," Nott says, resting her hand on Caleb's arm.

"No, you go," Caleb mutters. "Go have fun."

She worries her lip between her teeth—now short and straight and not lethally sharp—for a moment before hopping down off the bench, giving him a final pat on the knee.

"If you need me," she says, holding up the piece of wire.

Caleb smiles and nods, gesturing her off with a wave of his hand. She flashes him a reassuring smile before scurrying off to join the others.

"Well, if you're sure," Molly says slowly. Caleb can feel his eyes on him and he takes a swig from his drink to keep from having to respond.

"Go on, Molly," Fjord says, patting the tiefling on the back. "We'll keep ourselves occupied."

Caleb sees Molly shrug in the corner of his vision before heaving a sigh and wandering after Nott.

The song filling the room has changed from the one originally playing, the rest of the gnomes on the stage joining in with the fiddle player to belt out the cheerful tune. In addition to the fiddle player there is an elderly flautist, a younger female playing a small pair of drums with her hands, and a male with bushy brown hair playing an odd instrument comprised of several reed pipes and a small bellows that he is steadily pumping under his elbow as his fingers move across the holes in the reeds and his foot taps in time with the music.

Caleb's eyes rove across the room to where the others are clustered together in the middle of the room. Jester is dancing with her duplicate, skirts coming dangerously close to concussing a tiny gnomish man as she spins. Risa has rejoined them and is dancing with Beau, who looks halfway between apprehensive and pleased as she tries to keep up with the rapid jig Risa is attempting to teach her. Kiri and Nott are doing a wild sort of dance in a circle with two gnomish children who look no older than 10. Apparently, the tavern is more a central gathering place for the area rather than just a tavern.

His eyes fall on Mollymauk, his many patterned coat a whirl of color as he twirls one of the few human patrons—a young woman with a long braid falling down her back—around the room with a bright grin. The song comes to an end and Caleb watches him dip the woman smoothly, her face breaking into a laugh as she straightens, before giving her a small bow and kissing the back of her hand.

Caleb feels something ugly and unfamiliar rise in his chest and he turns his gaze back to his drink, frowning at the dregs in the bottom of the tankard. Glancing around, he realizes he's alone at the table. Fjord is standing a few feet away in deep conversation with a middle-aged gnomish man with weathered skin and an anchor tattoed on his forearm, Yasha awkwardly kneeling at the edge of the dance floor surrounded by gnomish children gazing at her in awe and chattering excitedly.

He can feel himself shrinking inward and closing off, heart thudding in his throat and hands shaking around his tankard. He forces himself to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, the atmosphere of the room suddenly oppressively hot and overcrowded.

* * *

 

Molly flashes the young woman a grin and a wink as she returns to her companion, offering them both a wave and a, "have a lovely evening!" before he makes his way towards the bar, skirting around the furiously dancing knot of Kiri, Nott, and their new gnomish companions with a chuckle. He raps his knuckles on the bar and accepts the ale passed to him with a nod of acknowledgement, downing half of it in a single gulp and wiping his hand across the back of his mouth as Fjord sidles over to him from where he was deep in conversation with an old gnome at the far end of the bar.

"So," Fjord begins as Molly takes another sip from his drink, eyes falling almost automatically onto Caleb where he's hunched in his seat alone at their table. "Are you going to ask him to dance or not?"

Molly nearly spits out his drink, instead inhaling a mouthful and nearly doubling over to cough and choke. He pounds his chest with his fist, lungs burning and eyes watering as he turns to glare up at Fjord.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he gasps painfully. He straightens up, ignoring the concerned looks he's getting as he fixes the crooked collar of his coat, suddenly overly hot around his throat.

"Mhmm," Fjord responds flatly as Molly fiddles with his cup and avoids his gaze. "I thought we talked about this?"

Molly swallows thickly. "Yes, well, he doesn't look to be much in the dancing mood," he grumbles.

"Then go talk to him," Fjord says, punching him lightly in the arm. "It's really starting to depress me watching you _pine_ , Molly."

Molly runs one hand absently through his hair and sighs shakily. Glancing across the room at Caleb again, eyes falling to where his fingers are drumming nervously on the side of his tankard, he huffs out another short breath and nods sharply.

"Right," he mutters. He downs the rest of his drink and grabs two more from the bar. "Wish me luck," he says, flashing Fjord a nervous look before making his way carefully across the room towards the table again.

He sets the tankards down a little harder than intended, wincing when Caleb jumps at the sound. Caleb glances up at him and Molly feels his breath catch in his throat and he curses internally because, god, why did his eyes have to be so _blue_.

"Thought you could use a refill," he says, plastering on a grin as he takes the seat across from Caleb and pushes him one of the tankards.

"Oh, _ja_ , thank you," Caleb mumbles as he accepts the drink and proceeds to stare into it silently.

"So," Molly begins, dragging out the _'o_ ' and clicking his nails on the table. He glances at Fjord, who gives him an encouraging nod, and takes a steeling gulp from his drink. "Would you, um, would you care to dance?"

Caleb looks up at him at last and blinks, looking confused.

"Sorry?" he says, brow furrowed slightly.

Molly resists the sudden urge to laugh it off or perhaps throw up or maybe just run away entirely and leans forward slightly.

"Would you like to dance?" he repeats a little louder, swallowing to try and wet his suddenly dry mouth. "With... me?"

Caleb stares at him for so long Molly is tempted to wave a hand in front of his face to see if he's still present. He finally blinks and lets out a small, nervous laugh.

"Oh, uh, no, I'm not really—I can't—" he clears his throat and shakes his head. "I do not think that is a good idea, apologies, Mollymauk."

"Come now, you can't be that bad," Molly says, attempting to keep his tone light even as his stomach sinks so fast he nearly feels sick.

Caleb stands up suddenly and pushes his drink aside.

"I need some air, please excuse me," he mutters, not looking at Molly as he pushes his way across the room to the entrance of the tavern, disappearing into the crowd.

Molly watches the spot where he vanished for a moment before giving Fjord a pleading look. Fjord looks like he's resisting the urge to roll his eyes with great difficulty, pointing after Caleb and mouthing 'go' at Molly with an insistent look. Molly drags his hand down his face in frustration before getting to his feet and following after Caleb.

The night air is cold in comparison to the stuffy interior of the tavern and Molly watches his breath rise in clouds as he glances up and down the street for Caleb. He spots him thirty feet away, half hidden in the entrance of the alley and leaning against the brick exterior of the building next to the tavern. His eyes are closed, head tilted back as he breathes slowly, one hand absently scratching Frumpkin's chin where the cat is curled around his neck like a furry scarf.

Molly approaches carefully, making sure Caleb can hear the sound of his boots clicking on the cobblestone so as not to startle him again. Caleb's eyes open when he's five feet away though they stay fixed on the dark sky overhead.

They stand in silence for a few long seconds, the sound of laughter and music filtering out into the street from the tavern, firelight from the lamps situated along the street flickering across Caleb's face.

"You ran out of there pretty quick," Molly says at last, keeping his tone light. "I promise I'm not that horrible a dancer." He watches Caleb's breath rise from his lips as he exhales a small laugh, though he is silent otherwise.

"Everything alright?" Molly says seriously. "If I said something that—"

"You did not say anything wrong," Caleb interrupts him softly. He exhales slowly and snaps his fingers so Frumpkin disappears from around his neck with a gentle _pop_. He offers Molly a small, strained smile before continuing, "Just feeling a little overwhelmed. I am still not used to this sort of thing." He gestures vaguely towards the tavern before pulling his fingers through his hair.

Molly hums in understanding, moving to lean against the wall next to him.

"I get that," he says. "Took me awhile to adjust to the circus, too." He pauses to glance at Caleb's profile, clasping his hands together when the urge to reach out and hold the one dangling next to him strikes. He clears his throat quietly. "Would you like me to leave?"

Caleb shakes his head. "No," he says, turning his head to meet Molly's gaze and smiling faintly. "No, this is... okay, I think."

He smiles again and Molly feels his stomach swoop pleasantly, turning away quickly to hide the dopey smile he can't stop from spreading across his face. He feels ridiculous, unnerved even, over how far gone he is over this man he's known for barely a month. But he nods and pulls his coat a little tighter around him against the chill, shifting a couple inches closer to Caleb so their shoulders are just brushing when he feels the other man shiver next to him. This is nothing like how he was expecting—or hoping—the night to go but he still can't help himself from smiling as they stand there in the cool night air in comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll make these boys kiss.


End file.
